Dear Jenny

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Really, it's true. We got a female boston from my grandmother about a year ago. We almost named her Yoda, but he's actually far better looking than she is so we went with Jedi.

Seriously, look at that fucker on the left. NOT CUTE.

Anyway, I was sitting on my fat ass playing Minecraft when I heard a noise most peculiar from the bathroom. At first I thought it was the cat hacking up another goddamn hairball, so I waltzed over to throw the bastard out. The sound stopped before I got there, and I felt a vague sense of disappointment. I'm not particularly fond of cleaning hairballs.

Unfortunately, when I opened the door, I wasn't greeted by a smug kitty standing proudly over the fruits of his labor. No, I found my dog flopping uselessly against the toilet, pretty obviously choking. Of course I go to fish whatever was making that lump in her throat out, expecting to find a shrew or a cat or perhaps a smaller dog.

No, what I encounter, deep in the slimy recesses of her throat, is a sponge. One of those green and yellow sponges with the brillo pad on one side.

What. The. Fuck.

I mean, I can totally see a small child mistaking it for a huge piece of delicious candy and going for a nibble, but I know for a fact this thing had been used to clean toilet seats and was probably far, far from delicious, even for a peculiarly stupid dog. I thought it might be pica, which usually occurs in humans due to lack of nutrients, but that still doesn't explain why she didn't rip it up into chewable pieces before trying to down it. Lord knows she's ruined enough sponges that way in the past (minus the attempted digestion).